


The Art of Negotiations

by NomiNolinasiNNs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Ambiguous Relationships, Art, Body Image, Body Paint, Body Worship, Canon Divergence - Star Wars Expanded Universe, Chiss (Star Wars), Complicated Relationships, Enemies, F/M, Force-Sensitive Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Negotiations, Non-Canon Relationship, Post-Battle of Yavin (Star Wars), Thrawnsoka, Togrutas (Star Wars), Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NomiNolinasiNNs/pseuds/NomiNolinasiNNs
Summary: The New Republic era (from 4 ABY). Palpatine and Vader are eliminated. But their legacy has not yet gone into oblivion. The minions of the Imperial regime lurk across the galaxy, gathering forces for rebuilding the Empire. Many Imperial officers who were deemed dead are, in fact, alive. Among them - (former) Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo aka Thrawn. After Palpatine's extinction, he’s got a chance to take his place as a Supreme Leader of the New Empire. He possesses all the necessary traits, skills, and connections that Palpatine did in his time, except for one, the most crucial one...
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Ahsoka Tano/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. The Sketch

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Искусство Переговоров](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/732852) by NominolinasiNNs (me). 



  
  
*

  
“ **A great tactician creates plans. A good tactician recognizes the soundness of a plan presented on him. A fair tactician must see the plan succeed before offering approval.** **Those with no tactical ability at all may never understand or accept it. Nor will such people understand or accept the tactician.** ”

― Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Thrawn

*  
  


* * *

  
  
Ahsoka comes to her senses in an artificial environment. Illumination is modest, the freshness of the cooled air is sobering. She quickly realizes that she is being hung in the electromagnetic cuffs in an office. Quite a pompous office. Judging by the emblems, it is Imperial. Rare exhibits and expensive accessories hint that it is not an office of a regular officer, but someone of a high rank.  
  
 _Great!_ she thinks, gaining a better grip on the reality. She scans the environment, examines the details. Any information about the owner of this office will be useful.  
  
Shock and triumph mingle in her belly as the office resident smoothly turns to face her in his boss’ chair. She knows who he is, but still does not believe her eyes.  
  
“Lady Ahsoka Tano,” a velvety half-whisper tickles her montrals and makes her swallow nervously, “You have been looking for me so eagerly,” he makes an expressive pause and examines her, his captive, with his red eyes.  
  
Ahsoka fails to hide her surprise. It was not her plan to see the former Grand Admiral so soon. She had to go through imprisonment and interrogation (and maybe even torture) by his henchmen. But luck is on her side sometimes.  
  
 _Or maybe not…_ _  
__  
_“You’ve been tracking me for so long. And how many innocents died for the sake of the information on my whereabouts?! Did you bother to count?” The cyan man spits out a reasonable accusation and begins walking towards her. His every step is measured, every breath - controlled.  
  
Ahsoka rolls her eyes theatrically. She pretends to be bored, while inwardly she is hysterically wondering what Thrawn has in stock for her. The predatory squint of his eyes does not promise anything good to come.

 _Though the luck is not with me, the Force is still with me, and I am one with the Force!_ She soothes herself.  
  
“Well, I have counted. I have watched your desperate efforts closely, and decided at some point to spare us both time and resources and, so to speak, came to you myself,” the Chiss stands next to her, clasping his hands behind his back, and continues in a smooth tone: “Ironic, isn't it? You were so imbued in this hunt, that it went pretty messy sometimes, and the mess gave you up.”  
  
 _If Thrawn thinks so indeed, then my plan is successful!_

“And that -- your excessive visibility -- alarmed me,” he declares.  
  
 _Mindful chiss figured out the catch! Kriff!_ Ahsoka sags and keeps quiet.  
  
“I’m beginning to doubt the veracity of the information on your verbal skills,” Thrawn paused, waiting for her answer.  
  
Ahsoka knows that playing dumb won’t work. She has to commence to bend her line somehow. But her tongue is as petrified. She is still in awe - the alien next to her is not a savage monster that she had heard of. He is calm, stately, and mannered, that is - a complete contradiction to rumors and her idea of the ex-Imperial officials face.

“Everything is fine with my verbal skills,” Ahsoka articulates as evenly as she can. Her voice is a bit hoarse due to a long blackout. She coughs slightly and continues, “And, perhaps, I should have been more prudent while looking for you. But all is as the Force wills it, and we finally meet, and this is most important.”

“I do not believe that _the Force_ has anything to do with our current meeting. You were deliberately feeding my subordinates clues about your dislocation. To my displeasure, my commanders overlooked them. But when some of them died by your hand due to their misjudgment, I decided to handle the case personally.”

“Your subordinates are quite silly, I shall say. I am a Force-user. Apparently, they were not aware of what this means,” Ahsoka said acidly.

“It is logical to assume that they were not fully aware of the Force and its users due to the lack of experience with such. Unlike me. You know, I have interfaced your blue-eyed friend from Lothal quite a lot. Moreover, I was honored to meet the Sith Lords themselves,” Thrawn grins temptingly. Ahsoka clenches her jaws. She almost hates the arrogance of the Chiss.

“Enough orating about them. We are here because of _you_ ; _your_ fate is being decided now.” Thrawn highlights her importance. It alerts Ahsoka significantly.

Thrawn commences pacing around the office, not taking his eyes off her.

“You have harrowed the galaxy for information about me. Strangely, you were always referring to _me_ and not Ezra Bridger. But I'm sure that _he_ is your true target. Am I right?”

Ahsoka chuckles, grits her teeth and says nothing. Thrawn decides to pry her: 

“For the one raised up on Coruscant, in the highly esteemed Jedi Temple, where they supposedly teach the negotiations etiquette, your conversation style is, frankly, odd. Even I, a stranger from the unknown regions, managed to master it.”

Ashoka boils inside and speaks up:

“My main goal is to eradicate the remnants of the Empire. But you are aware of this. Such an important figure in the Imperial web, you are aware of many things,” Ahsoka fails to sustain the insolence neither bothers to hide her irritation anymore. She finds the mannerism of the Grand Admiral nearly as disturbing as the rudeness of the pirates.

“But you won’t do it alone. You need allies. Force-users. After all, _one_ Force-user cannot counteract the _legacy_ of the Sith’ Lords,” Grand Admiral ignores her insolent remark and comes closer, “I want to discuss our joint opportunities...”

“Drop your sly persuasions. What can you offer to me!? You! A former pawn of the Emperor!” Ahsoka grimaces. She wants to pour more acid onto her capturer but shuts her mouth. Thrawn is not the one whom she shall piss until the right moment.

“An unfortunate condition is a short-sightedness,” Thrawn defies her in response, “You should reconsider your standpoints since the alignment is such that you are in captivity from which you won’t return to your past realities, no matter the outcome of this meeting. Personally, I hope that we will come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Ahsoka chuckles, realizing what Thrawn is implying.  
  
[It was rumored that the snotty chiss was plotting to restore the Imperial regime, becoming the leader of the new order. Logically, he would want to recruit Ahsoka to join his ranks, which she had razed in the past years, eliminating the silly commanders whom Thrawn, most likely, appointed to the posts himself, as a part of a strategy of getting rid of the idiots, and granting the leading positions in his subordinance to the trustworthy individuals.  
But rumors were not all-inclusive nor mentioned that Thrawn realized that he lacked _one very important trait_ to reach the level of influence of the fallen Sith Lords. Although he had mastered military strategy and studied politics, Force wielding was not a skill he could learn on his own.  
Oh yes - he was Force-sensitive. Prior to his arrival at the Inner Rim, he was unaware of the term Force-user and did not know how to describe his abilities. But during his time at the Imperial navy, he had a chance to browse the archives and meet several Force-sensitive creatures. This made him realize what he was – _ozyly-esehembo_ – as his tribe was calling the ones with an extra sense or – a ‘sky-walker’ – translated to common galactic dialect.  
Unfortunately, the ideology of the fallen Empire dictated that creatures like him must serve the Sith. That is, to be at the disposal of the Sith Lords, fulfilling their orders unconditionally. Thrawn could not accept such a fate. He escaped slavery at the Sith cult, which did never considered a stable, well-organized structure. He kept hiding and suppressing his _peculiarity_ skillfully. From history, he had learned that the Jedi Order was a significant threat to the Sith. And as in the past, the Jedi have defeated the Sith again. What remained unchanged, however, was that the reins of control of the Galaxy have always been in the hands of powerful Force-users. Therefore, Thrawn had to become one. Otherwise, his potential would not be unleashed and his dream - ruling the entire galaxy - would not come true.]

“What if we won't come to an agreement? Will you kill me?” Ahsoka asks indifferently.

“Your death is not what I desire. We will discuss the terms of our cooperation and you will understand that **I** am the _key_ to your long-cherished goals. Most likely, you will agree to cooperate.”

Ahsoka doesn't believe what she is hearing: _Thrawn wishes to eradicate Sidious's legacy too? Or what does he mean by ‘the long-cherished goals?_

"And I know where Ezra Bridger is," Thrawn says plainly, studying Ahsoka’s puzzled face.

Ahsoka senses that the Chiss is not lying. The devious ex-admiral knows where Ezra is, and he is going to demand an outrageously high price for each grain of information about the boy. He will persuade her to cooperate in order to achieve the utmost influence in the Galaxy in exchange for Ezra’s coordinates.

“I will not indulge your manic ideas nor join the ranks of another tyrant. I am ready to sacrifice my life for the old Empire to perish and the new one to never come true!”

“You are exaggerating, lady Tano, being unaware of all the details. As I expected - you stick to your beliefs. But I must insist that you listen to me...” he looks into Ahsoka’s eyes and sees only disgust and rejection in her gaze. He falters, “And… Just a moment,” he takes the commlink, “Lyys, bring my materials in, please.”

 _What kind of materials? For the torture? What is Thrawn plotting?!_ Ahsoka fusses but keeps steady in her cuffs.

“Do you enjoy art, lady Tano?” Thrawn suddenly changes the topic.

Ahsoka closes her eyes. She enjoyed painting before the war. During the war, she was only fond of the art of combat. Currently, she is specializing in the art of survival.

“Depends on the kind of art.”

“The visual art, my lady. And what art have you thought of?” Thrawn arches his eyebrows.

“I just recalled that I am good at the art of kicking asses of naughty ambitious peacocks,” Ahsoka spats the rudeness and it makes her feel good for a moment.

“Seriously?” Thrawn stifles a smile, acquiring the assurance that Ahsoka Tano’s former nickname the ‘snips’ is rightfully earned. “You know, I think, you deserve a masterpiece.”

“Pardon me?” she inquires involuntarily, not yet believing that Thrawn _means_ it.

The doorbell sound makes her twitch. Thrawn opens and a twi'lek servant enters the office. She carries…

 _Easel, paints, and brushes?! What nonsense is this?_ Ahsoka stares at the set in the girl's hands in disbelief.

“I must admit, that due to your adamant tenacity, there is a chance that I’ll have to kill you. But I had just realized that killing such a beauty would be very unfortunate. Thus, I decided to turn my soft spot into an advantage - I will paint you, capturing your beauty on canvas, thereby convincing myself that killing you is a bad idea, that such a marvel should live. Then, I will be choosing my arguments more convincingly, and you are more likely to agree with me. If I won’t succeed, your portrait will remain here as a reminder of mine, and yours, unfulfilled dreams.”

“Do what you want. You won't get anything from me.”

Ahsoka is glad - the circumstances seem to align in her favor. While Thrawn is going to paint her, she will have time to exert an influence with the Force, provoking him to speak of Ezra.

Thrawn takes his white military jacket off and rolls up the sleeves of a light turtleneck that drapes his muscular body. Ahsoka notices an amulet hanging on his neck. She has seen such totems before… 

_But where? When? What is it for?_ Her memory and perception are still dull - the effects of the drug. She can't remember.

“Let's start,” announces chiss, putting the easel in front of her and placing the rest of the materials around in an array. He concentrates, takes a quick glance at the togruta, and initiates the pencil sketch.

 _“Let's start!”_ Ahsoka reciprocates mentally and also concentrates. She is with the Force, and the Force is with her. Everything will work out, as it always does. She begins to creep into Thrawn's mind…

“By the way,” he suddenly halts sketching, “I forgot to warn you that you should not waste your power on the Jedi tricks.”

Ahsoka widens her eyes: _How did Thrawn detect the onset of her manipulation?_

His thin azure lips stretch into a grin.

“You see, I am Force-sensitive. I bet you didn't know!” He grins wider and returns to drawing.

“And I bet your abilities are in their embryonic stage of development. I don't even feel your Force signature,” Ahsoka snips and puffs.

“You have guessed it right, lady Tano. I suppressed my talent for a very long time. But times have changed, I need it to develop my potential.”

“How are you planning to do it? There are almost no Force-users left. Moreover, you are too old to become a padawan,” says Ahsoka pokingly, studying the features of the cyan-skinned chiss.

He looks calm and relaxed, confident that nothing is threatening him. He stares at her a bit oddly – there is no hatred or enmity in his gaze. Putting the fact of the captivity aside, Ahsoka does not feel oppressed. His eyes are gleaming with interest, rather than something hostile.

“I disagree. My willpower and determination are incomparable to those of humans. I achieved such heights in the Imperial navy that no other alien had ever even dreamt of. I avoided enslavement by the Sith. I survived the fall of the Empire and the rise of the New Republic. I have outlived all the bounty hunters…”

“Except me,” Ahsoka inserts.

“You are a special case, lady Tano. I need you.” Thrawn looks into her eyes. His hands freeze on the canvas.

The air in the office turns into beskar. Time seems to stop running. Ahsoka can’t breathe – the essence of Thrawn’s intentions becomes clear to her – the chiss did not catch her to extract the information about the Republic or kill.

 _He wants to know about the ways of the Force. To learn_ …

“May I ask you to minimize your mimics? Otherwise, I might reproduce your face incorrectly.”

Ahsoka realizes that her mouth is open and her eyes popping out of obits. She restores her indifferent expression and thinks... Thinks hard... Looks at the amulet on Thrawn’s neck again. It's a bone. Bone and teeth of some animal…

_Whose bones and teeth are these?_

Thrawn traces her gaze and comments as if reading her mind:

“My protection totem. Made of ysalamiri bones.”

It is clear to Ahsoka without further explanation - with this amulet, Thrawn cannot be influenced via the Force. Her plan falls into sarlacc’s pit. She hopes that the negotiation will not result in her death too soon, at least not today, at least not before she makes sure that Ezra is safe.

Thrawn squints maliciously. He finishes the pencil sketch and begins mixing the pigments.

“So, let’s resume our business talk,” he picks some caramel pigment and mixes it with a golden one, “You probably wish to know why do I need you?”

“I can’t wait for you to enlighten me on that matter, Mitth'raw'nuruodo.”

Address by the full name impresses the chiss. He squeezes the brush tightly in his hand, looking at Ahsoka much more seriously than before, and begins to extrapolate on his ideas. While he speaks, the brush guided by his hand dances its intricate dance on the canvas.

  
  



	2. The First Smears

  
  
*

  
“ **Art mirrors the soul, from which tactics arise. One can see in artwork the strengths and weaknesses of those who created it. In fact, if one has a sufficient variety of art to study, one can extend and extrapolate to the strengths, weaknesses, and tactics of entire cultures.** ”

― Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy (Book I: Chaos Rising)

*  
  


* * *

  
Gold-glimmering caramel pigment is being encrusted on the canvas by Thrawn in verified, ordered movements. The chiss picks the pigment plentily, brushes it gracefully, and relishes every stroke. A faint smirk never leaves his cyan lips.  
Ahsoka wonders what is delineating there on the canvas but her interest is quenched rapidly by a thought that this picture might become her pre-mortem portrait. She is silently waiting for the promised explanation of her captivity, but chiss’s negotiation style does not include sudden revelations. He comes in from afar:  
  
“Tell me, Lady Tano, if you would have the power, connections, capabilities, and resources to change the current order in the Galaxy, what would you do? What would you change?” He asks insinuatingly, proceeding with the painting.  
  
Ahsoka sighs heavily. The air scratches her throat and she realizes that she is dying of thirst. She glances quickly at the jar of water that flaunts on Thrawn's desk. Her belly and throat clench at the sight of the much-desired beverage. Her bloodless hands begin to tremble, and the neck feels sore. Nonetheless, she does not complain and does not stoop to begging. She had no desire to provide her captor any extra pleasure. Swallowing it dry, she looks at the chiss, who had followed her eyes - his pupils dart from the vessel with water back to the canvas. Ahsoka notes that he is extremely attentive to the details.  
  
She opens her parched lips and says, “I would strengthen the influence of the Republic in the Outer Rim, cleanse the Hutt's sector of crime, stop piracy, introduce a new trade policy... Is it what interests you?”  
  
“Exactly,” the Chiss confirms and continues, “You see, during the heydays of the Empire, I was trying to understand what those rebels were trying to achieve. I had interrogated many of them and always asked for their opinion on the current regime. And I realized that many of them just sought autonomy. They were not against the Empire as such, they just wanted peace in their system and a chance to conduct their business according to fair schemes. Imagine, how easy it is to arrange - just a couple of decrees – and everyone is satisfied!”  
  
Ahsoka arches her eyebrows. The chiss’s reasoning differs from that of other Imperial bigwigs she had faced. Also, she is absolutely sure that the Emperor would have never issued such decrees. Instead of negotiations and constructive policies, the Empire used the Death Star.  
Ahsoka retorts, irritated:  
  
“Then why have such decrees never been issued? Why instead of receiving autonomy Alderaan was blown up by the Death Star!?”  
  
Thrawn doesn't answer right away.  
He mixes azure with indigo, adding a little bit of ash pigment into the mixture. Once ready, he stretches his hand towards the easel. Doubt flickers through his features. Ahsoka wonders what had caused it - the selection of the tone for drawing her lekku, or the circumstances around the Death Star.  
  
Thrawn makes a small stroke with a brush, looks at Ahsoka, and then back at the painting. And at her again. And answers measuredly:

“I have never thought of the Death Star as a reasonable tool for maintaining order. Firstly, such a huge and expensive object was hard to hide. Secondly, there were never enough workers to achieve Emperor’s ambitious deadlines. We ended up recruiting prisoners, bandits, and half-educated techies from all over the Galaxy. I did not approve of such an approach of personnel recruiting, and the idea itself. As we have seen, it turned out to be a failure. I like the Jedi approach – keeping order using the authority of the Force cult – much more. I want to adopt this style myself.”

“You didn’t answer my question, but played a politician skillfully,” sprinkles Ahsoka.

Despite being indirect, Thrawn's answer sheds light on his philosophy and worldview. Ahsoka sees that the cyan alien is strongly opinionated. His commitment to the Empire came from the need to gain a foothold in the civilized Galaxy, but since he was not a native of either the Republic or the Empire, he retained his individual mood of thinking and looked at the world from his own angle.

Ahsoka recalls Anakin, who was also known individualist and relied only on his own experience and opinion. Neither the Jedi Order nor the Sith Lord had absolute rule over him. Ahsoka considers loyalty to the own principles the feature of true leaders.

Having finished applying the ash-blue pigment, Thrawn puts the painting on hold. He walks to the table, pours water from a vessel into a glass, and takes a sip.

Ahsoka watches him closely.  
The former Grand Admiral heads towards her. He halts close to her frame, glass in hand. Ahsoka looks at the water lustfully. She had not drunk for a couple of days or more. Dehydration is reflecting as a dull pain in her montrals.

Thrawn is aware of her thirst. He knows that for a sip of water she is ready to sacrifice a lot now. But he is not asking for much, yet, just her opinion again:

“Which way do you think I should follow in order to develop in the Force - the classical one, with a Master, or using modern technologies? Here I mean the transplantation of midi-chlorians into my body. Have you heard of it?” Thrawn takes another sip without taking his eyes off her face.

“I have heard heresy much worse than this,” Ahsoka looks at him plainly and tries to figure out how much does Thrawn know about midi-chlorians. Something tells her, that he knows a lot. Maybe even more than she does. “I have a feeling, that whoever the author of this _technology_ is, he had learned the ways of the Force in a distinct way.”

“The author of the method is Darth Sidious, the developer – Darth Vader. They were planning to clone Force-users but failed. Then they tried the midi-chlorians transfer into test subjects. But sadly, the effect did not meet their expectations. Lord Vader abandoned the idea, concluding that the method is unreliable and leads to mental instability. But I looked into the issue closely. The success of midi-chlorian transfer is a matter of compatibility between the donor and the recipient.”

Ahsoka arches her neck and throws her head back. She did not know such details of Sith's evil plans. She is immensely glad that the development was shut down… Unless…

_Unless Thrawn had learned the technique and continues to develop it. Unless he had found a source of midi-chlorians for himself. What if it is Ezra?!_

“Do you really think that you can pump some midi-chlorians into your system and become like Lord Vader from that very moment? You should understand that this is absurd.”

“Why.”

“You cannot just _start_ using the Force. Becoming a Force-used is a long process, full of training, practice, education, and guidance from an experienced mentor.”

“Well, I have time. And _you_ ,” he states simply.

 _Dream big!_ Ahsoka chuckles to herself.

“And I shall confess that I have committed a frivolity. I took your blood for the midi-chlorian compatibility test. I am waiting for the results.”

 _Force! What treachery!_ Ahsoka purses her lips in anger. She wishes Thrawn never finds a donor or a Master.

“Probably you have not heard the legends about those mighty ones who attempted to subdue or wield the midi-chlorians. I won’t retell you those, but to sum up: they all ended up _very badly_.”

“I know the stories, Lady Tano. Of all arts, painting is my favorite, but I am interested in literature and architecture nor less. I have read everything I could get about midi-chlorians, _starting_ with the legends. They were most helpful in exploring the failure of Lord Vader and others. I realized that all my predecessors were missing out on something important about these divine elements. Through trial and error, I figured out that it was.”

“Impressive. I feel like I should applaud you, but my position does not allow me to,” Ahsoka gives out sarcastically and claps her tongue. Unintentionally, due to the thirst. Next to water, it is simply unbearable.

Thrawn averts his gaze briefly. He is considering something. Ahsoka senses his tension and unease.

“You should be rewarded for your frankness and a blood sample,” he suddenly says.

He hesitates for a couple of moments and then comes very close to Ahsoka, bringing a glass of water to her lips. His gaze is riveted back to her eyes. He examines the color and pattern of her irises.

Without a drop in the mouth for many hours, the smell of mineral water intoxicates Ahsoka and she reaches instinctively for the glass.

Thrawn gives her chin nearly weightless hold with one hand while tilting the glass with the other.

Water pours into her mouth and trickles down the corners of her lips. Ahsoka almost moans in delight.

The grip on her chin becomes more tangible.

At first, she doesn't care.

Next, she suddenly does.

Further, it becomes extremely uncomfortable.

All her muscles tense and buzz. She swallows the water convulsively, hoping that her shaking will pass for a sign of great thirst. Now she wishes to moan in protest but doesn't make a sound.

Thrawn patiently waits for her to finish the drink before removing the glass slowly.

Without thinking, Ahsoka licks her lips.

Chiss's gaze locks on her moist mouth.

Ahsoka doesn't think about it. Diligently. Forcefully. She does not allow herself to think of his fingers on her skin…

The chiss strokes her chin with his azure fingers, brushing water droplets off her skin. All this time he is studying the features and patterns on her face with genuine admiration.

Ahsoka's gaze fades and focuses in turns, but she does not take her eyes off the pair of red ones opposite to hers. She notices that Thrawn’s eyes are red-luminescent.

Thrawn studies her face a little more, not too long to call it inappropriate, but enough to invoke a blush on her cheeks.

When he turns away, Ahsoka exhales in relief, and all of sudden she feels so…

  
 **Lonely** _._

 _  
_She curses this feeling. She should not fall for some silly weakness now. She does not care whether she is alone or not – she has everything one needs to survive. She doesn’t need anything else or anyone else.

 _I am better off on my own. I am **not** lonely. I am fine… Just fine._  
  
“I have power and resources, Lady Tano. Connections. Almost everything one needs to restore order in the Galaxy. I only lack one thing – knowledge of the ways of the Force and the respective skills. And I am going to do everything, **everything** _possible_ and _impossible_ , to achieve my goal. If not you, I will find another Force-user who can help me. But I **will** find a way and learn to use the Force, I assure you.”

“Sounds desperate. It appears to me, that you have not succeeded in finding a Master. The same stands true for the midi-chlorian donor.”

Thrawn ignores her comment and continues to bend his line.

“Don’t you agree that _your_ knowledge of military affairs, the Force, and connections with the Republic activists, combined with _my_ resources, might become an unshakable tandem of superiority? You can fulfill all your dreams, just not under the auspices of the Republic, but at the new Empire. My Empire.”

“Would you like to return to painting my _last_ portrait? And let's finish this farce as soon as possible!” Ahsoka blurts out and turns away pissed by chiss’s boldness.

“You are making rushed judgments, Lady Tano. Until I get the test results, I'm not going to kill you. And if you refuse to cooperate willingly, you will endure it all the same unwillingly, if it turns out that we are compatible.”

Ahsoka holds back so as not to yell a threat into chiss’s face. She can’t sustain her anger. She is overwhelmed by his treachery annoyed by his arrogance. Despite this, she is holding back her temper. It is not the right time to provoke the Grand Admiral.

“Well… I shall say you are not doing well following the Jedi principles either. You are following the footsteps of Sidious. And you will end up just as he did.”

“You are capable of fixing it by agreeing to cooperate with me. I will not become like Sidious then. I will take an example from you, all the best you can teach me – I am willing to learn.”

“I'm not a Jedi nor a Master,” Ahsoka says dryly.

“And I'm not a Padawan. But I need that knowledge!”

Ahsoka realizes that the chiss is obsessed with the idea of gaining mastery in the Force. She sees this as her chance:

“All right, Mitt'rau'nuruodo. I accept to teach you _one lesson_ in exchange for information.”

“Depending on the request, I might agree to that. What do you wish to know?”

“Ezra Bridger. Where is he?” Ashoka inquires.

“Hmm… Just like I thought,” Thrawn mutters to himself, and accepts the challenge, “I will answer your question. One lesson – one answer – a fair deal.” Thrawn states.

Ahsoka’s soul trembles in anticipation of an answer.

Thrawn's expression is unreadable and he is silent. He is quiet when her heads to the far corner of his office and retrieves a picture from there. He carries it to Ahsoka and positions it so that she can see it clearly.

Ahsoka sees the picture and a lump rises in her throat immediately – it is the portrait of Ezra. Grown, matured, but still familiar, Ezra Bridger! Thrawn styled his portrait as an icon of the great Jedi. The clarity of the drawing and perfect stylization impress Ahsoka to the core.

“Believe me, Ezra Bridger is in a _safe place_ and everything is fine with him,” he throws, “The portrait is drawn not very long ago,” Thrawn nods towards the picture, and leaves the office.

Ahsoka is left hanging in the electromagnetic shackles, looking at the portrait of Ezra. His blue eyes look as if they are real, staring right at her. His black hair has grown significantly and falls behind his broad shoulders. He looks great, even seems happy.  
  
Ahsoka is perplexed and incredibly glad that he survived and, according to Thrawn, is fine.

Ahsoka thinks about him and fails to hold back the tears…

  
  



	3. The Details

  
  
*

  
“ **Of course risk is part of spaceflight. We accept some of that to achieve greater goals in exploration and find out more about ourselves and the universe.**”

― Lisa Nowak

*  
  


* * *

  
Ahsoka regains rationality and clarity of thought when the tears dry out on her cheeks and she calms down. She looks at Ezra's portrait for the umpteenth time, studies the details more closely. Ezra is wearing unusual clothes: a cape of a brown gritty material that Ahsoka cannot name. Most likely, she reasons, the material is natural and originates from some rural world from the outskirts of the Galaxy. Ahsoka notices a metal brooch on it. Thrawn drew the jewel in every detail: the metal is bluish and shiny, the brooch is twisted, its curls wove into a symbol. Ahsoka assumes that the symbol belongs to the chiss culture.

 _Of course, Chiss Ascendancy! Ezra is there! Thrawn keeps him hidden, where no one can ever reach him.  
  
_ Ezra doesn't look like a beaten prisoner. His eyes are clear, his face is flushed, and his hair shiny. He is not starved and thirsty. Thrawn also drew a light halo around his head, signifying that he is a Light-sider.

 _Ezra seems fine, even good. Unlike me…_ Ahsoka thinks with indignation and licks her dry lips.

Her mind is immediately filled with the memory of Thrawn offering her water. She was awestruck at his gentle approach… The way his smooth cyan fingers ran over her wet chin, almost touching her lips while removing the drops of water… His aura was turbulent like a wild nebula when he did this. He was absorbing her features and patterns as keenly as she was drinking the water. For some reason, Ahsoka is sure that his explicit interest in her facial features was not only due to artistic reasons.   
  
Then she realizes what the Grand Admiral has a weakness - obsession with art and beautiful things. And she immediately decides to use it to her benefit. She knows that she is extraordinary. She was told so many times, though she remained indifferent to such feedback, and showed off the most obtrusive commentators.

Ahsoka thinks of how to play her card...

A desire to look at her portrait overtakes her, and she turns the easel using the Force. What she sees confuses her, then irritates, but after all, she finds it funny.  
Thrawn did not paint her portrait. He painted her full-height, in a pose as if she was suspended in chains, only without chains. And naked. Her body was painted in a uniform caramel-gold tone (since Thrawn did not know of the ornaments that she possessed, that togrutas were given or for special merits or as a memory of the life events). Ahsoka painted the patterns on herself, giving them special, non-traditional meanings. She had ornaments drawn in the memory of the fallen comrades-in-arms and Masters; ornaments in honor of those who had given or rescued her life: the Daughter of Mortis, Morai, and Ezra. There were ornaments indicating that she did not belong to a man, that she was free and pure. But Thrawn did not know any of it and painted her as he imagined.  
Her montrals and lekku were also depicted in his own style - instead of asymmetrical white and bluish stripes, he decorated them with curls, similar to those on the brooch on Ezra's portrait. He drew her lekku falling on her breasts, thus hiding the spicy details.  
Moreover, Thrawn painted a white flame around her body. Also, it seemed that he had depicted the wings behind her back, but the painting was not finalized, so Ahsoka is not sure.

While Ahsoka examines his creation, a plan of how to undermine the chiss and make him suffer a bit matures in her head.

_Art… Aesthetics… He likes beauty. I will give him that, as much of it, as he can handle!_

She has no power left for turning the easel back to its original position. Her vision blurs and she sinks into the shimmering darkness.

~ ~ ~

“Ahsoka Tano,” sounds flat a mechanical voice of an imperial med droid, model 2-1B, “Are you fine? Can you hear me? Can you see me?”  
  
“Yes,” Ahsoka hisses and tries to get up but is instantly reminded that she is in captivity – she finds herself cuffed to a bed.  
  
"Sorry for the discomfort. We do not have a medical unit, thus we had to put you in a standard cell because…”  
  
“Stop babbling. Tell me, where am I?” she cuts off the droid.

“In torture chamber number seven.” Delivers the droid. 

“Where is this chamber?”

“On an asteroid dreadnought that belongs to Mitth'raw'nuruodo.”

“And **where** is this dreadnought?” Presses Ahsoka.

“It’s… It’s… It’s…” the droid begins stammering.  
  
“Clear. You're programmed for nondisclosure.” Ahsoka sighs and observes the room. It doesn't look like a torture chamber. However, given the specifics and methods of Thrawn, this is not surprising.

“You are hungry?” The droid asks.  
  
“Yes. But I will eat only in the presence of Mitth'raw'nuruodo.” She declares.

“I will let him know,” and the droid sends a message to the chiss. A few minutes later, the answer comes and the droid reports: “Mitth'raw'nuruodo will not be free any time soon. But he insists that you eat before the lesson."  
  
Ahsoka curls her lips.  
  
 _Naturally... Thrawn demands payback for the information!_

She accepts the food and water that the droid offers her, emptying the tubes to the last drop. Her energy is quickly replenished. She looks around, calms down, and rests.  
  
“Tell me about this dreadnought, droid. The era of release, model, what it is equipped with or I'll die of boredom here.”

The med droid launches a monotonous speech. Ahsoka listens attentively at first, noting that Thrawn has excellent disguise tactics: the dreadnought is called an Asteroid for its appearance that mimics a small asteroid. Ahsoka listens to the technical details about its equipment and unnoticeably falls into a sound sleep.

~ ~ ~

First thing as she wakes up from her rest, Ahsoka sees Thrawn in the cell. He is serenely reading something in his datapad. Noticing her gaze, he perks up and greets her.

“Good awakening, Lady Tano. I hope you are able to teach me the promised lesson now?”  
  
“I wonder what kind of lesson you hope to receive when keeping the teacher in chains,” Ahsoka puffs.  
  
“I'll free you for that purpose, of course,” Thrawn says ordinarily. Judging by the tension that overtakes his features, Ahsoka acknowledges that this decision was difficult for him to make.  
  
“You set me free and what’s next?”

“You will come with me to the cockpit and show me how to use the Force for maneuvering the dreadnought through particularly difficult areas of the nebula."  
  
“You are taking a huge risk by handing the control over to me.”

“The risk you take is equally high. You risk your life. I risk mine as well as the lives of the crew on board. But you are the only one here who can make it through this debris, wherein the shortest to our destination lies, and, coincidently, to the location of Ezra Bridger,” Thrawn says reluctantly.

Hearing the latter, Ahsoka acquires some motivation. 

“Very well, Grand Admiral. I will pilot this dreadnought through the nebulae and debris but I cannot promise the success of this mission.”

“If not you, then no one can,” Thrawn says dejectedly. Ahsoka has no doubt that this is true.

“And I would like to know where we are going,” she adds.  
  
“I will let you know if we pass the nebula.”  
  
“You are reasonably pessimistic, Grand Admiral,”  
  
“Just like you, isn’t it,” the chiss mirrors her words.  
  
“In my position,” Ahsoka moves her shackled limbs meaningfully, “It would be strange to feel otherwise.”  
  
“There are still many things you don’t know, Lady Tano. Your situation is not as terrible as you think it is,” he says, coming closer to her. After he presses a couple of buttons, Ahsoka's ankle and wrist restraints open up and she can move freely. “Now let us hurry to the cockpit. We have approached the edges of the cosmic chaos,” announces Thrawn and offers her a hand.

Ahsoka is surprised by his gallant gesture, but she accepts it. Thrawn leads her out of the torture chamber with the grace of a gentleman leading a lady to a ball. Ahsoka senses that his mannerism is a well-trained performance. Behind his mask of confidence and calmness, enormous tension, on the verge of a nervous breakdown is camouflaged. But the master of disguise, Thrawn, skillfully masks literally _everything_.

In the cockpit, Thrawn asks the pilot to free the seat at the helm and directs Ahsoka to take it. He himself lands in the navigator's chair and explains the navigation system specifics to her briefly. Ahsoka understands it fast since she already heard about the ship a lot from the droid.

Her gaze turns to a small panoramic illuminator. What she sees there amazes her. It seems that they are not in space but in the ocean. The density of matter around is so high that visibility is almost zero. Straining her instincts, trusting the Force, Ahsoka manages to figure out what's going on outside the spacecraft she is piloting. In addition to meteorite clusters, stardust, and blocks of ice, Ahsoka senses living beings out there. Assuming that it might not only be peaceful purrgils, Ahsoka begins to doubt the idea of making it through alive.

“With all due respect, Grand Admiral, are there no less suicidal paths to the destination?”  
  
“There _are_ other pathways, but they are not less dangerous than this one due to pirates, thugs, rebellious groups and other _issues_.”  
  
“Are you afraid to face a group of rebels or raids?” Ahsoka says sarcastically.  
  
“Not. But this nebula is inhabited with much more terrible beings than thieves and criminals.”  
  
“Could you be a little clearer than this nebula,” she asks the chiss, while getting used to the control panel.  
  
“There are creatures here that can tear the galaxy into shreds, according to the legends of my people. We are trying to get through the passage where there are no such threats.”

Ahsoka notes that Thrawn is superstitious. But she does not question the veracity of the chiss legends. The Jedi scripts also mentioned ‘monsters’ from the bowels of space that could exit their hideouts and demolish everything. Nonetheless, Ahsoka is not superstitious and hardly believes in such tales.

They chatter no more and maneuver through clouds of stardust, clusters of asteroids and other cosmic matter. Due to the density of matter, the navigation systems don’t aid piloting much. If it were not for the Force, then the flight would be blind and would have ended up already. Ahsoka closes his eyes and perceives the world in the Force Dimension:

 _Living things pulsate and radiate energy  
  
The inanimate is monotonous and cold  
  
_ _The Cosmic Force flows like a river and Ahsoka drifts along its waters  
  
_ _Thrawn's signature flickers to her side. He seems to be in an impenetrable bubble, protected by an amulet.  
And there is something, that surprises Ahsoka most of all, in a pleasant way, - Thrawn is fulfilled with the Light.  
  
_

The cost for her momentarily distraction is high - the board gets scratched by a meteor, from which Ahsoka did not dodge in time. She pulls the lever way too late, moreover, it turns out to be the wrong one, and the dreadnought is shaken from the impact of a rocky meteor that smashes into the side.

“If I can help you in any way, just tell me,” Thrawn suggests rapidly.

Ahsoka realizes that her abilities alone are not enough to pass through this horrible path, where a split second of distraction may cause death.

“Yes, you can help me. I need eyes and skillful hands to operate the main controls. You will take this task up, so I can better concentrate on maneuvering the dreadnought with the Force.”

“But… How...” Thrawn begins the question, but Ahsoka answers before he articulates it. 

“I will guide you through the Force. Naturally, if you dare to take off your pendant and let me connect with you.”

“Accepted. There is no other choice,” Thrawn concludes and unfastens the belts on his chair.

Ahsoka nods, continuing to pilot the dreadnought on the verge of her limits. She rises from the pilot's seat, giving some space for Thrawn to squeeze himself into her place. He creeps in there, trying not to touch her. But as they exchange places, the dreadnought collides with some space debris again, and Ahsoka lands right on the chiss's lap. He grabs her with one hand over her hips by inertia while trying to hold the ship in control with another.  
Ahsoka barely contains a sigh of surprise due to the unexpected firm touch.  
All of Thrawn's muscles are steel-hard from the unbearable tension. His hand is like a metal shackle, his body - like a monolith. But Ahsoka has no time to think about it now because they are again on the verge of a collision...

“Sink down! Now!” Ahsoka manages to cry out and clings to what is available to grab on.

Despite the circumstances, Thrawn obeys her words flawlessly and leads the dreadnought down at a sharp angle. His timely action saves the board from another damage.

As soon as the grip on her hips loosens, Ahsoka jumps into the navigator's seat. She does it at a hyperspeed, like on hyperdrive, and not only because circumstances from _outside_ require such a rapid action. Once she lands on a chair, she stretches out her hand and rests it above Thrawn’s wrist. Chiss tenses more than before. He almost shakes but does his best to hide his condition.

Due to lack of time, he rips the amulet from the ysalamiri’s bones off his neck harshly and throws it into the corner of the cabin. He no longer suppresses himself and opens up to the Force. His hitherto compressed into a tiny lump signature unfolds and flares up in the Force. His light is not like those Ahsoka had encountered among human Force-users. His Light is foreign. Special. _Unique_. Powerful. _Unbridled_. Ahsoka is pleased to feel his rise - the ascendance of a Force user.  
In addition to his lively and vibrant energy, Ahsoka feels doubt and some confusion. She sends him a torrent of calmness. It takes a few moments for Thrawn to stabilize and accept her influence. As soon as she sees it fit, Ahsoka makes connects their minds via the Force. Thrawn does not resist. Ahsoka manages to synchronize with him and direct him with ease.

The flight goes on well: in addition to good concentration, Thrawn’s desire to pass this nebula, to overcome the obstacle, live and fight for his life pours on Ahsoka, and encourages her. Overall, the Grand Admiral is having a hard time. He breathes heavily, looks tortured, and sweats. It is his first time to be open to the Force, the first time to interact with a light Force-user openly, as well as the first time to lead a ship trusting someone else completely.

Ahsoka can’t help it - she imbues into his feelings: she feels his alertness and curiosity. Knowingly or unknowingly Thrawn reaches out to her through the Force driven by an attraction that cannot be disguised in the Force Dimension. Ahsoka stops his attempts:

“Don’t divert your attention. All your resources should be devoted to flying.” She tells him sternly.

After her reminder, Thrawn no longer attempts to explore her signature during the journey through the nebula.

By the end of the flight, Ahsoka is covered with cold sweat while Thrawn almost boils from the prolonged efforts with concentration. During their last maneuvers, several damages occur to the board due to their lack of concentration. Gladly, no life support system gets damaged, thus the flight continues.  
  
  
Once the space debris is no longer a bother, they both exhale heavily and Thrawn sets the piloting on autopilot.  
  
“I think our first lesson was successful,” the chiss comments, observing stars through the illuminator.

"I suppose so since we are alive," Ahsoka replies, still holding her palm on his arm.  
  
She hesitates to break contact with him for a couple of seconds. She instills the features of Thrawn's Force signature into her mind. Thrawn reaches to her via the Force again. Ahsoka realizes that the chiss does not control the pull. He is pulled to the Light by inertia, like the planets are attracted towards the stars. Ahsoka cannot allow this to persist and breaks the contact hurriedly.  
As soon as her hand leaves the chiss’s body, uneasy feelings overtake her soul. When he puts on his amulet, she is torn from within by

 _Loneliness.  
_ _Despair.  
_ _Loss.  
_ _The feeling that she stands alone against the entire universe._

“We're in the Chiss’s space. Our first stop will be Rentor. Next – Csilla.” Thrawn reports to her.

Ahsoka had already guessed their general destination earlier, from Ezra's portrait and judging by Thrawn's eagerness to pass the nebula. The only place a person could rush with such devotion is Home.

“So, you are going home,” Ahsoka concludes.

“Right,” Thrawn replies calmly and hides the pendant under the fabric of his uniform.

Ahsoka wants to tell him to take off this trinket and forget about it because his signature is so… _Amazing_

But before she can express anything, the pilot enters the cockpit. He takes his former place, Thrawn tells him to stay on course and leads Ahsoka out into the hallway. There Ahsoka bursts immediately:  
  
“There is so much Light in you, Mitth'raw'nuruodo…”  
  
“I have suspected that,” the chiss nods slightly.

“And great potential. However, it won't be easy to unveil it. You have suppressed your abilities for way too long. I don’t even know whether it is possible to develop your talents.”  
  
“I am a brilliant student, didn't you think so?”  
  
“You are unprecedently curious, sometimes blatant, and overly-confident, if you wish to know _my_ opinion,” Ahsoka says seriously, giving Thrawn a stern look.  
  
“Like the Master, like the apprentice” Thrawn smirks a little, continuing to walk slowly along the corridor.  
  
“I agreed to teach you only **one** lesson. I am **not** taking apprentices,” Ahsoka cuts.  
  
“I propose we revise our agreement and cooperate further,” the chiss lulls.

“Cooperate? On which terms?”  
  
“On a mutually beneficial basis, Lady Tano,” he states seriously.  
  
“Until now, only you gained the benefit from having me aboard.”  
  
“I promise, your benefit will also be respected.”  
  
“How so?”  
  
“I can offer you valuable information. Opportunities. Resources.”  
  
“Specify!” Ahsoka insists.  
  
“Let's go to my office. I would like to share something of great importance and finish the drawing if you agree…”  
  
Ahsoka nods and follows Thrawn silently, a bit intrigued by the promise of some valuable information.

  
Once they enter the office, Thrawn hesitates, before requesting her: “May I ask you to take the same position you were in yesterday?”  
  
“That is, I shall be shackled again?”  
  
“Only temporary. I have learned a lot during our interaction, Lady Tano, and I don't think you can be kept in chains by me.”  
  
“And yet, I will be chained…”  
  
“Just for the sake of art,” Thrawn assures her and freezes near the shackles.  
  
“By the way, about art. You are misrepresenting me, Mitth'raw'nuruodo, ” Ahsoka says, pointing at the painting that remained standing as she had left it.  
  
“Indeed? And where did I blunder?”  
  
“You have painted my body with one color. The tone is beautiful, by the way, although not exactly the same as my skin…” Ahsoka points out.  
  
“It is highly likely that the difference is caused by the peculiarity of chiss’s color vision. We have an expanded visual spectrum. Where many see one color, we distinguish up to five shades and halftones,” Thrawn justifies.

“It’s alright. However, my main point is not about the color,” Thrawn is attention. Ahsoka relishes the moment. “You are depicting me in a form in which you have never seen me in reality. Naturally, you don't know all the _details_ . Thus, you are not reproducing them.”  
  
“Hmmm...” Chiss hums and his delightful expression fades. He doesn't like being poked into the mistakes but is ready to correct them: “Could you please enlighten me about these _details_ ?”  
  
“I could. But not for nothing, of course.”  
  
" ‘course,” Thrawn's lips curl into a sly smile. He seems to enjoy playing this game.  
  
“You will tell me about your plans. About where and why we are flying, and what Ezra Bridger is doing there!” Ahsoka demands.  
  
“Believe it or not, but it is exactly why I have called you here.”  
  
“So, let us not delay. Get started,” Ahsoka requires and commences to unbutton her clothes.  
  
Thrawn falls into a momentary stupor as her jacket falls to the floor near his feet. Ahsoka takes off her boots and undoes the belt. Only then Thrawn realizes what the togruta is up to, and a great surprise reflects on is face

“Are you going to… be naked?”

“Just for the sake of art,” Ahsoka repeats his words, and adds, while taking off her bracers, “I also need the information.”  
  
She pulls her pants down fast. Thrawn is motionless. He does not hinder her in any way. Ahsoka takes off her shirt and reaches out to take off her top.  
  
“Are you going to…” the Chiss babbles almost in a whisper.  
  
“Yes. Otherwise, you won't be able to depict me correctly,” Ahsoka confirms.

Thrawn does not breathe. He begins examining the patterns on her torso that appear to his gaze.

“Oh, and you know, you can consider this my second lesson to you. A lesson of… admitting your mistakes,” Ahsoka says before pulling off the top. Thrawn's face at this moment is precious.

If not for the burning shame, Ahsoka could say that she is amused by the happening. But the mixture of shame and something primal, animalistic, that makes her lekku coil into snails on her chest, and is also making Thrawn's eyes gleam with a predator’s glow, leaves no room for amusement. Due to the severity of the sensations, Ahsoka's skin turns one tone darker. Her heart pounds against the ribs almost painfully. Thrawn is experiencing the same affliction.

Satisfied with the effect she has on chiss, Ahsoka begins to like the game. Their game.


End file.
